


Cages

by cuneifire (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Episode: s02e07 The Usual Suspects, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cuneifire
Summary: They've asked him these questions before.





	Cages

They've asked him these questions before. Same words as always. “Who is your brother?” “What is your name?” “What does your father do for a living?”. And then the police officer (or teacher, or social services member) will try to pry, say, “Why did your mother die, Sam?” or “Did you father ever abuse you?”, or “What is your relationship with your brother like?” (That one always made him want to laugh until his throat went raw) 

Sometimes he told the truth, in shredded little pieces. Most of the time he just lied. The last time it'd happened, when he'd been seventeen and ready to murder John and leave Dean for dust, had wanted nothing more than to scrape the dirt of the past from under his fingernails and never look back, that time, that time he'd told the truth.

He'd said, “My brother is Dean Winchester. My name is Sam. My father hunts demons, but that doesn't make for profit so he runs credit card schemes and hustles pool. My mother was killed by a demon when I was a baby, and I don't know why. My father never laid a hand in me, but he was never an angle and he never will be. And my brother is the only person in the world I really care about.” His voice had broken, the lady across the room having eyes wide with disbelief. “I'm in love with him.” 

He'd stop up and walked out, ignoring the soft voice that followed behind him. That was the day he wrote his application for Stanford.

It's nothing like that now, or maybe everything like that, with a police officer staring him down across the table. She asks, “You know what your brother is guilty of,” and it's not really a question. She says, “You could get out of this, this life you've been dragged into, if you tell us what your brother did.”

And Sam thinks that maybe, just maybe, that seventeen-year-old kid with anger in his eyes and violence in his pen strokes might have helped her. Might have spilled everything, let his voice crack over the truth. Might have been able to let Dean go.

But not now.  _ (He thinks: it's too late)  _

After all they've been through? Now, Sam would rather die than see Dean behind bars, knowing he'd been the one to put him there. 


End file.
